Midnight Suicide
by Yoko-cw
Summary: A Kitsune Plans To Take His Life. Someone Comes Along To Help...


**MIDNIGHT SUICIDE-SDA  
CHELSEA WELSH**

_Summary: A Kitsune Plans To Take His Life. Someone Comes Along To Help..._

Kurama POV

Cold. It was always so cold. Not the human world, not the tempurature...me. My skin had become numb, something untouchable, forbidden. Cold, like glass, like marble, like the mirror I dreaded looking into every morning. Mother's voice would always carry up the stairs, alerting me to the time although we both knew I was awake. I would go downstairs in a hideous pink and yellow uniform. I would drink black coffee, kiss her goodbye and give a nasty glance to my stepfather on my way out the door...because he hugged her, touched her; in a way, he took her from me. We were silent to eachother; I believe he hated me aswell. I drowned out the schoolbus with an old tape player, cellos, opera, violins and spanish guitars.

Droning on and off, black and white existance. Such is this human life.

It was cold that night when I stood on the bridge, my chin resting solomnly upon my folded arms. I looked out to the blackened river, the city lights that looked like christmas morning. Droning trucks, music too loud, people in taxi cabs preparing to go home. Time meant nothing; all I knew was that at that moment, my human family slept, unaware as ever that I was gone. I closed my eyes, breathed in the pre-snow air and tried not to be aware of the heat pooling in my eyes.

...Would I fly? If I just let myself fall, how long would it take? I imagined it would feel very much like floating; and then Yoko Kurama would be gone, an unspeakable thought. Washed away by a frozen river in a world that would not change.

"...You thinking of jumping?"

As always, his voice was sudden, though it didn't startle me. It held no concern, no genuine curiosity. Just like everyone else, it was plastic and false.

"What if I was?"

I turned to face him, staring into his eyes. Like pools of blood. ...How fitting. "Would you care?" I continued, unable to stop myself from voicing foolish concerns.

He stabbed me then; "Hn. I just don't want your blood to be my responsibility." My heart ached. Not unfamilar, but surprising somehow. I had not expected him to say anything that...Hiei-like. Though I should have.

"I see." I tried not to let my voice tremble. I would take maybe...three minutes to drown. I would be unconscious by the second and from there on it was just letting myself go to sleep, fall away under a layer of frozen, polluted human waters.

"If you plan to jump," he sighed, sitting on the edge and pulling one knee up to his chest; a trademark position, "I suggest not doing it. If you failed, you would merely wind up with a nasty head wound, hypothermia, brain damage from oxygen deprivation. And should you wash up on shore that would be a nasty surprise for the fishermen." He held his katana out to me, eyes cold and set on mine, magentic. "Here. It will be quicker, and the success rate is much higher."

I couldn't breathe. My friend had read my plan in three seconds, critisised it, and corrected me without any emotion. I was both curious and insulted. "Or what of those human medications, the ones that put you to sleep?" he said icily, "I'm sure if you took enough with alcohol you'd never wake up." Was he being sarcastic? With his tone of voice, it was hard to tell.

I closed my eyes, turned my head down; my hair brushed down my shoulders and covered my face. I felt nothing.

"Baka kitsune," he muttered, almost speaking to himself, "Why are you trying to take a cowards way out? I expect this from a human, certainly not from you." Ah. So I was a failure. I had let him down...again. He hated my humanity, perhaps more than I did.

"If you are to die," he whispered, pulling me by the shoulders to face him, "Do not do it here. Die with laughter, Kurama. By taking what never belonged to you from the idiotic demon lords." In other words, go out rebelliously, memorably...demonically. I smiled lightly, looked over his shoulder at a sign advertising cheap health care. Hot tears fell from my eyes.

...He held me then. Breath escaped me when he pulled me into a startling embrace; warmth seeped into me, my body covered only by jeans, a work shirt that was not suitable for winter. "...Do you truely want to die?" His voice was soft, and my eyes only filled with more tears. "...I just want it to stop," I whispered, chest full of too much emotion and I felt I would explode.

It was silent. No one saw, heard, cared.

"It will," how sure he sounded, "It will get better...you just have to be willing to fight for it, beat the hell out of anything that's beating you," a small smirk "Trust me, it works."

"Let go Kurama," barely audible, "It's our secret, let it go."

...And I did. I muffled my sobs behind my hand, my head on his shoulder and the smell of smoke and pine soothing me. I felt yesterday's wounds stretch; my own mistake, falling back to knives. Would I bleed? For once, I cared to know.

"I'm cold," I spoke as though full of novacaine.

"Only for a moment," his embrace tightened, "I promise..."

Somewhere, midnight passed, and we sat in my abandoned room, sneaking in through an unlatched window. He never let go, never let contact break between us. I fell, all the while staring at my used dagger, still reddened from my breakdown.

...We fought another day.


End file.
